Tales from the Sohoku Road Racing Club: Our First Training Camp
by Die Einzelganger
Summary: Yowamushi Pedal AU where instead of joining Hakone Academy, Arakita Yasutomo enrolled in Sohoku High School, where he turned the lives of everyone around him upside down - for better or for worse. Depends on who you ask and at what time, really, and it just so happens that Onoda Sakamichi decided to ask Makishima Yuusuke. (Originally posted on Ao3.) Part 2 of this AU.
1. I

"Makishima-san..!"

"Ah, Onoda!" Yuusuke glanced back. "Are you getting used to your handicap?"

" _Yes!"_ Onoda pulled up beside him. "Um, I mean..! I don't know how I'll manage one thousand kilometers, but your advice made climbing easier.. Thank you…"

"Don't mention it. Literally, _don't,"_ laughed Yuusuke. "Kinjou wanted you to figure it out on your own, but I just had to be meddlesome, sho."

Onoda giggled, then fell silent, pensive.

"Um.. Makishima-san?"

"What is it?"

"When you were a first-year, was it this hard for you, too?"

Yuusuke's expression sombered. He shifted two gears.

"Ask me again in the evening."

* * *

 _ **Tadokoro: 280 km**_

 _ **Kinjou: 250 km**_

 _ **Arakita: 250 km**_

 _ **Makishima: 245 km**_

 _ **Aoyagi: 230 km**_

 _ **Teshima: 220 km**_

 _ **Naruko: 200 km**_

 _ **Sugimoto: 200 km**_

 _ **Onoda: 165 km**_

The results should have been disheartening. _Really._ And yet, faced with such proof of everyone's greatness, Onoda's heart soared to the evening sky. His progress might have looked like one small step to his incredible seniors, but felt like a giant leap to him.

And besides… all Onoda could think about right now were the amazing stories Makishima-san would tell, once Arakita-san rubbed him down in the bath, and washed his emerald hair.

* * *

"Makishima… can you tell me what _they_ are doing here?" Tadokoro pointed to the first-years perched on Yuusuke's futon, staring intently. The culprit scratched his cheek.

"I uh, I kinda promised Onoda I'd tell him about our first training camp, sho…"

Kinjou twitched, then lowered his glasses, eyes bleak. Tadokoro swallowed.

" _Tch._ You can't say no to Onoda-chan, can you, Yuusuke," Yasutomo shook his head. Behind him, Onoda rubbed the back of his head, positively beaming.

"What's wrong?" blinked Sugimoto. "Was your training camp worse than this one?"

The seniors stared back speechless… but their faces? Now _those_ spoke _volumes._

* * *

" _Seriously?"_ cried Naruko wide-eyed. "How bad was it?!"

"We uh… we kinda failed the menu," mumbled Tadokoro.

"I had never known greater shame until our second-year Inter-high," groaned Kinjou.

"I actually don't remember like, half of camp," owned Yasutomo.

"I wish I could forget _all of it,_ sho," sighed Yuusuke.

" _Suure_ you do..!" Tadokoro squinted, grinning. "I still remember how you decided to drop out so you could stay with Arakita. You had a _really_ bad crush on him."

Yasutomo chortled. _"Awww, Yuusuke,_ you had a _**crush**_ _on_ _ **me..?**_ Now _that's_ embarrassing!"

"We're _together,_ sho," Yuusuke quirked his brow.

" _Still..!"_


	2. II

In retrospect, Yuusuke hardly knew what he had expected.

The derisive laughter that filled his ears the very day he joined lingered for a long time, its echoes revived four weeks later by an unexpected encore at the first-year welcome race. Overwhelmed by anxiety and the urge to prove himself, all hints of an accompanying recovery vehicle had eluded Yuusuke completely… and so the moment he broke into his spider climb, a wave of rancid snickering streaming from the van struck him like thunder.

" _Oh my god!_ I never expected it to be _this bad!"_

"Told you!"

"I can't look! He's gonna crash any moment.."

"Stop fooling around, Makishima!"

"We can't take our eyes off you for a second, can we?"

Yuusuke's hands trembled on the handlebars as he sank onto his saddle, his chest unbearably tight. The van soon passed him in pursuit of Kinjou and Yasutomo, but left Yuusuke crippled by fear that more seniors would appear if he danced, and add their voices to the hellish cacophony in his head. As the mountains dragged on, all Yuusuke allowed himself was a scream from the bottom of his broken heart, alone and unheard by anyone.

He placed third, having never caught sight of the other two on his way to the parking lot by the Kameshi Dam, while Tadokoro finished half an hour after, pulled by a third-year and his face caked with tears and sweat.

At least Yuusuke had been spared that humiliation… for a while. As soon as he dismounted, he petrified as he almost had back at the first incline. He valiantly endured the second-years' teasing, and swallowed his tongue as they compared him needlessly to future captain Kinjou Shingo, and _Arakita the Amateur_ … or was it _Immature?_ Yuusuke could have sworn he had caught some "clever" inside joke between them. (Tadokoro later confirmed that he had received the same comments, with minor variations to keep things from being repetitive.) And yet, endless though it seemed, Yuusuke weathered the storm with little more than quivering features and clammy hands clenched by his thighs. He nearly survived.

But the moment Yasutomo pulled him over to the vending machine, shoved a Pocari Sweat into his hands, and whispered,

"They got to you, didn't they," like he just _knew,_ Yuusuke screwed his eyes shut, his cheeks burning as Yasutomo smacked his back hard enough to draw tears.

"Hang in there, Makishima.." murmured Yasutomo. "If you're short on courage, you gotta suck it up until you're ready." He took a swig of his Bepsi, then nodded to the bottle in Yuusuke's hands. "Drink up. Feel better."

" _I can't,_ " breathed Yuusuke. "I.. I need a _straw,_ sho."

Yasutomo stared for ten dreadful seconds, then punched the vending machine for a small carton of fruit juice, ripped off its tiny complimentary straw, and stuck it between Yuusuke's fingers, his head turned as Yuusuke nursed his drink, sniffling.

He should have realized it was all an omen, for terrible things to come.

* * *

Two more weeks, and their seniors announced that a four-day training camp was imminent, and compulsory for all first-years. Apparently, beyond a means of self-improvement, and an opportunity to bond with their teammates, it was also a test, where the first six cyclists to complete the menu would form the Inter-high roster that year. Only Kinjou was encouraged to ride with this in mind, though, while the other three were simply told to do their best, and Yasutomo to behave for his own sake, because any punishment he might incur at camp would have to be completed after their return. (" _Hah!_ You're no fun, _Senpai._ ")

And so, come the first week of June, Yuusuke found himself huddling in a single seat on the rental midibus, while Arakita Yasutomo sprawled over the double seat to his right, shoes kicked onto the floor and one naked foot propped on the empty seat beside him. Occasionally, their eyes crossed and Yasutomo clamped his teeth down on the neck of his bottle of Bepsi, drawing obscenely long draughts as Yuusuke sipped his Pocari Sweat through a straw, cheeks flushed.

 _Never mind him, Yuusuke,_ he told himself, head pointedly turned. _Things will be fine! They said it was individual training, so no one will care what you do as long as you ride!_

Those words proved prophetic, with a horrible twist. Upon their arrival, the menu turned out to be a total of one thousand kilometers over four days, at whatever pace they deemed fit, but that wasn't all. While _Arakita the Amateur_ was let loose unrestrained, the others found themselves forcefully handicapped as an added challenge. Kinjou's gear shifters were removed to refine his pacing. Tadokoro received flat handlebars to curb his sprinting… and Yuusuke was given training wheels.

"We won't have time to supervise you, so this will have to do instead," Shiraiwa tapped his shoulder with a grin, ignoring the way all color drained from Yuusuke's face.

Within one lap, he fell twice as he took turns much too sharp for training wheels to handle. Most riders passed him too fast for notice, but some stared anyway… until Yuusuke crumbled to a stand in the slopes, an agitated howl tearing from his throat unbidden.

He froze as it was answered by a screech of tyres - Yasutomo coming to a halt right behind him. Their eyes met. Yuusuke whipped his head down.

Yasutomo soon shot past him in a sprint, sneering. It took him some time, but he caught up, heaving over a mouthful of bile.

" _ **Shiraiwa!**_ You can't be _serious, Shiraiwa!"_

Up ahead, Shiraiwa heaved an annoyed sigh.

"Is something _wrong,_ Arakita- _kun?_ "

" _Why_ would you guys give Makishima _**training wheels?!**_ _What the hell is_ _ **wrong**_ _with you?!_ "

"It's to correct his form. It's for his own good."

" _You're_ _ **destroying**_ _his self-confidence!_ "

"And what would you have me do, _jackass?_ Encourage that ridiculous dancing? Let Makishima become a laughing stock?"

"Not everyone laughs at him. _Just you guys,_ " hissed Yasutomo.

Shiraiwa didn't reply.

* * *

Refusing to yield, Shiraiwa proceeded to ignore Yasutomo, who soon pulled ahead of him and kept his position for several hours out of sheer spite. In the process, he passed slow, struggling Yuusuke on every lap thereafter, but keenly conscious as they were of each other, neither gave any signs of it, Yuusuke out of shame, and Yasutomo out of visceral anger that constantly threatened to erupt, with no worthy target to spend it on.

To take his mind off Yuusuke's predicament, Yasutomo occasionally caught up to and exchanged a few words with Kinjou, who eventually forgot to feign a smile as his efforts to counterbalance his handicap drained him like a punctured canister. As for Tadokoro, he soon looked more harrowed than anyone else: worse for wear with every slope, and sinking deeper into depression each time he entered the flats, his hands shaking over his ill-matched handlebars.

"Sprinting.. is the only thing.. I've got," he heaved, eyes large. "Why.. did they have to.. take it.. from me…"

"Because they're assholes," muttered Yasutomo as he whapped Tadokoro on the back, then broke past him, half wishing he had a handicap himself to match the others, but infinitely relieved nobody had laid a finger on Bian, else Yasutomo would have had to avenge her in kind.

In this manner, the day gradually petered out, and Determination, Ambition, Hope, and Passion had lost much of their luster by the end of it. In the upper echelons, congratulatory banter crowned the seniors' (over)achievements, while the first-years huddled around the scoreboard on trembling legs, shoulders hunched and faces pale.

 _ **Arakita: 235 km**_

 _ **Kinjou: 200 km**_

 _ **Makishima: 150 km**_

 _ **Tadokoro: 140 km**_

"We're finished, Kinjou. We've been outdone on the _first_ day, by _beginners,_ " Tadokoro hung his head. Yuusuke's mouth twisted. Yasutomo scoffed.

"Makishima ain't a _beginner_ , and I wasn't handicapped. Don't make a big deal out of it. _Sheesh.._ Now you've made me feel _worse,_ dumbass."

"Is there even a point in riding tomorrow? _Look at us!_ " Tadokoro flailed at the bottom rows. "There's no way we can complete one thousand kilometers _like this!"_

"Arakita-kun stands a decent chance, at least," said Kinjou, his smile pained yet genuine. "I will never give up, but if any of us might ride in a Sohoku jersey, it could be _you,_ Arakita.. _kun…?_ "

Yasutomo bloomed crimson.

" _ **Shuddup!**_ " he slapped his hands to the sides of his face to hide his burning ears.

" _I'm serious!_ " pressed Kinjou. "At this rate, you might make it to the Inter-high!"

"We leave it to you, Arakita," Tadokoro smacked his shoulder. Yasutomo growled.

"That _hurt,_ you moron! Argh, _I'm sick of this!_ I'm gonna eat and take a bath."

"Good idea! Wait for me!" Tadokoro shuffled after him. Kinjou shook his head fondly.

"I suppose we should go, too. …Makishima-kun?"

Yuusuke winced, then broke into nervous laughter.

"Y-Yeah, I'm coming, sho.." he joined Kinjou's side, heart thrashing.

 _Dinner's gonna be bad enough.. but bathing with them? I'd rather die, sho!_

* * *

"First-years, hit the bath!" Shiraiwa turned around. "You too _,_ Makishima!"

So close to slipping away, Yuusuke froze in the hall, dread spilling inside his chest.

"N-No, thanks, I'm fine.. I'll go later, sho…" he mumbled, visibly shrinking away.

"Now don't get all shy or _fussy,_ Makishima," Shiraiwa chided with a grin, louder and louder as Yuusuke's hands started trembling. "Look! _Kinjou_ and _Tadokoro_ are coming! Even _Arakita's_ doing what he's told for a change, so don't be the odd one out..! Now hurry up and—"

" _ **SHI-RAI-WA."**_

Yuusuke's heart stopped. Yasutomo cocked his head, expression livid.

"Because of _**you**_ _guys_ , Makishima's been riding around on _**training wheels**_ _all day long._ He didn't _ask_ _to..!_ He didn't _want_ _to..!_ You _**made**_ him the odd one out, and it's even ruining his chances of completing this camp. So maybe, he's just a little tired of this shit, and _doesn't want_ _to be around you_ _right now._ _Be a pal for_ _ **once**_ _in your life and_ _ **LET IT FUCKING GO.**_ "

Silence blared. Yuusuke gritted his teeth.

" _Fuck!_ This killed my mood," Yasutomo kicked at the ground. "I'm gonna get a drink. Makishima.. you want— one..?"

" _Can't you just_ _ **shut up?!"**_ screeched Yuusuke, shaking. _"I don't need this! I never asked you to do this, so mind your own business and_ _ **stop making me feel worse, JACKASS!"**_

Yasutomo stared back thunderstruck. His courage spent, Yuusuke whirled around and fled.

After a moment of awkward silence, everyone filed into the locker room except Shiraiwa, who sighed and shook his head.

"You don't know when to quit _either,_ do you? Maybe _you're_ the problem, _jackass._ "

He then followed after the others, leaving a seething Yasutomo behind.

A slight detour later, Yasutomo finally managed to track down Yuusuke, who cowered behind the building, his arms wrapped around his knees. Yasutomo stopped by his side and held out a plastic bag, but when Yuusuke turned his head away, Yasutomo set it on the ground and straightened, a Bepsi dangling from his hand.

"I don't mind you taking your anger out on me, Makishima," he began, his tone lifeless. "I know it's easier than confronting Shiraiwa, and I'm a heartless jerk, so you can't hurt me.. but I'm getting _real_ sick and tired of you calling me _jackass._ You know who calls me that? _Shiraiwa,_ but only when we're alone, or behind my back. I'd bet anything you heard it from _him,_ and whenever you're feeling spiteful, when you're _itching_ to put me in my place, you reach for it instinctively because it cuts the deepest. Am I wrong, Makishima? _Huh?_ "

Yuusuke pursed his lips in defiance, but the way his neck sank between his bowed shoulders gave him away. Yasutomo sighed.

"Don't be like him, Makishima. You can do better than.. whatever this is."

With that, Yasutomo turned around and left, but only when his footsteps ebbed away did Yuusuke check the plastic bag.

His heart clenched. Inside was a cold Pocari Sweat, and a single, paper-wrapped drinking straw.

* * *

Once he finished his Bepsi, Yasutomo entered the bath, where everyone present soon learned that his shoulders and arms were absolutely covered in bruises. For all the astonished looks and careful questions he received, however, Yasutomo failed to comment in the scant five minutes he had spent in the water, leaving everyone to come up with their own gruesome theories.

None came even close to the truth. _Hah!_ And why would they? Until he was allowed to race, Yasutomo would keep his slowly developing, rough but efficient riding style a secret from them.

By the time Kinjou and Tadokoro returned to the first-years' bedroom, Yasutomo was sitting on his futon in a shirt and shorts, his blanket in his lap.

"Oi," he nodded to them. They hummed, curious.

"I'm gonna lie down now," began Yasutomo, his tone painstakingly even. "If anyone asks, I'm _asleep,_ so no one has to put up with my lousy ass anymore, and I'm a deep sleeper, so nobody has to worry about waking me up. You got that?"

Tadokoro stared back confused, but Kinjou smothered a smile and cleared his throat.

"This isn't about Makishima-kun, is it..?" he asked, not unkindly.

" _Haaah?!"_ huffed Yasutomo. "I'm just _telling_ _you_ , if _anyone_ asks, I'm fucking _**asleep,**_ so nobody has to _deal with me_ _for a while!_ _ **Got that?**_ "

Kinjou rolled his eyes, but Tadokoro grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. Yasutomo squinted at him, then flopped down and bunched the blanket around his head and shoulders, resigned to playing possum for the rest of the evening.

True to his word, Yasutomo lay perfectly still until Yuusuke's reappearance an hour later, who had since finished the Pocari Sweat, and could no longer justify not facing Yasutomo. He crept inside the room like a mouse, breath held and fingers fiddling with the drinking straw, then yelped as Tadokoro bounded over with an eager look on his face.

" _THERE YOU ARE,_ _**MAKISHIMA!"**_ he threw a grin and an arm around Yuusuke's shoulders. " _Don't you worry,_ _that_ _ **JERK**_ _ **Arakita**_ _is_ _ **FAST ASLEEP,**_ so you don't have to _**worry**_ _about_ _ **him!"**_

Yuusuke took one look at Yasutomo's subtly writhing form and quirked his brow. A few feet away, Kinjou pressed a hand to his mouth, shoulders quaking.

" _ **SEE?"**_ Tadokoro stepped over to Yasutomo, to nudge him in the backside repeatedly with his foot. _"He's sleeping_ _ **so soundly,**_ if I sat on him _right now,_ he wouldn't even—"

" _ **DON'T YOU DARE,**_ _ **YOU FUCKING TRAITOR!"**_ Yasutomo jerked upward and threw his blanket off, hair bristled and his face contorted into a rabid mess. _**"I can't believe this!**_ _The_ _ **one time**_ I try to consider Makishima's feelings and ask you to play along, and you ham it up like it's a _fucking meat sale!_ _**I QUIT!**_ _I'll_ _ **never**_ _be nice again,_ _**NEVEEERRR!"**_

" _Pfft..!_ "

Yuusuke whirled around just in time to hide a truly hideous grin, then grabbed his bag and hurried out the door, promptly missing the way Yasutomo scorched to the tips of his ears.


	3. III

Yasutomo buried his face in the back of Yuusuke's neck as the room erupted in laughter.

" _Don't laugh, Yuusuke…"_ he gave the other a squeeze for his telltale tremors. Yuusuke bit his lip.

"Oh, _man,"_ Naruko choked on his saliva, "The old man's confirmed for _**worst**_ _wingman_ _ **ever!"**_

"What's a _wingman?_ And don't call me _old man!"_ snapped Tadokoro.

"He's right though, you're the worst," Yasutomo squinted at him from behind a lock of Yuusuke's hair held to his face like a bandana. Tadokoro snorted.

"Don't blame me! Blame Kinjou,he's the one who put me up to it!"

" _ **Kinjou?!"**_

* * *

Kinjou fixed his glasses with a stiff hand and slowly turned away as all eyes fixed on him.

"Care to explain yourself, sho?" Yuusuke gathered Yasutomo's hands in his. Deprived of his bandana, Yasutomo lowered his head to glare from behind Yuusuke's shoulder.

"Oh? What did Kinjou-san do?" came a new voice from the doorway, startling them into whirling around.

"Perm-senpai! Quiet-senpai!" gasped Naruko.

"Oh my.. Were we too loud?" asked Sugimoto. Teshima flicked his wrist, smiling.

"No worries! We just heard laughter, and thought we'd investigate. Right, Aoyagi?"

Aoyagi nodded, expression deadpan.

"So, what did Kinjou-san do?"

Kinjou sighed.

* * *

 _Kinjou pressed a finger to his lips, then beckoned towards the door. Intrigued, Tadokoro shot one more glance at Yasutomo's motionless form, then snuck out of the first-years' bedroom to join Kinjou in the hallway._

" _What is it?" he whispered. Kinjou scratched at the back of his neck._

" _It sounds like Arakita-kun would like to make up with Makishima-kun, but doesn't know how to talk to him, so I was wondering if we could help, somehow. What do you think, Tadokoro-kun?"_

 _Tadokoro broke into a devilish grin._

" _Don't you worry, Kinjou," he tapped Kinjou's shoulder, "just leave_ everything _to_ me."

* * *

" _Hah!_ You used him as an excuse! I _knew_ you were the traitor!" Yasutomo jabbed a finger at Tadokoro, Yuusuke's hand still latched onto his. Tadokoro huffed and crossed his arms. Kinjou cleared his throat.

"Still, I was glad Tadokoro did that," he said with a fond smile. "You deserved that chance, Arakita. It was when you told us to pretend you were asleep so Makishima could ignore you if he needed space, that I finally realized you were.."

" _Human?"_ offered Tadokoro. Yasutomo growled.

" **Fuck off!"**

"I was going to say _soft-hearted,"_ clarified Kinjou. Yasutomo choked and flushed crimson.

" _ **Shuddup!"**_


	4. IV

Yasutomo shot the traitors scalding looks as he abandoned his futon and made a dash for the hallway, where he soon fell into the twitchy caricature of a casual stride by Yuusuke's side, back arched and hands shoved in his pockets. After a few meters, Yuusuke risked a glance at him and whipped his head away with a snort, struggling to swallow his laughter at the sight of Arakita Yasutomo _pouting_ like a petulant child.

He cleared his throat and peered back, catching Yasutomo's eyes for the fraction of a second before he fixed them on the nearest wall. Yuusuke nudged his arm.

"What was _that_ about, sho?"

" _Haaah.._ I have no idea what you mean," shrugged Yasutomo, lips pursed.

"You and Tadokorocchi..?" teased Yuusuke, more amused than afraid for once. Yasutomo blinked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I don't know anyone with that name. Stop talking nonsense, you useless climber."

Yuusuke clicked his tongue, but his cheeks tinged.

"Are you, going somewhere..?" his hands tightened over the strap of his bag, unsure if he liked the idea. Yasutomo scoffed.

"I'm just stretching my legs to get away from a couple of treacherous jerks, and you just happen to be here, too. Don't make a big deal out of it."

" _You're_ one to talk, sho," quipped Yuusuke, though his playful edge dulled in the process. "…You, you really went off at Shiraiwa-san, back at the bath.. I've never heard you sound so angry before, sho."

Tension rippled across Yasutomo's shoulders. His eyes darkened.

"If you had just been sulking after a day of riding on those damn training wheels, I might have said nothing, but I could smell you from across the hall, and you were downright _terrified,_ Makishima. You were terrified of being naked around everyone.. and something inside me just snapped."

Yuusuke cringed, his colors fading fast. Yasutomo clenched his jaw.

"They mess with you at practice, but none of them ever laid a hand on you, did they..?"

Yuusuke shook his head wide-eyed, heart thumping as Yasutomo leaned in and sniffed him a few times, each whiff sharper than the last. Yuusuke swallowed.

"You don't believe me..?"

"I do now," came the laconic reply.

They carried on in silence, all the way to the bath, where Yasutomo stopped Yuusuke and pushed past the curtains into the locker room. He checked for used lockers, inspected the bath itself, then returned to the entrance, nodding to Yuusuke as he sank onto the nearest bench, his back against the wall and arms folded over his chest.

"Go on in, Makishima," he crossed his legs, staring into space. "It's empty, and I've been earlier."

Yuusuke hummed and entered the locker room, cheeks flushed and his belly full of butterflies. He picked a secluded corner and undressed, instinctively peering over his shoulder, but nobody came. Yuusuke washed and bathed alone, and all the while, he thought of Arakita Yasutomo, strong, terrifying, mysterious Arakita Yasutomo, the monster who kept the demons at bay.

* * *

Once his muscles loosened, Yuusuke returned to the locker room, where he changed into long-sleeved pajamas and carefully packed his toiletries away. He paused, then pulled out the straw he had hastily crammed into the bag during his escape from the first-years' bedroom, a strange smile playing on his lips. It seemed like such a little thing, _and yet…_

His brow furrowed. _What are you even thinking, Yuusuke? Don't be ridiculous!_

He bit his lip and sank the straw inside his pants pocket, then pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder and stepped outside… to find Yasutomo still sitting on the bench, though his head had since tipped to his right, mouth ajar and drool glimmering on his chin.

Yuusuke pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes wide. _Was he waiting.. for_ me…?

He instinctively reached out a hand, but drew it back at the last second, fingers tightly curled. In the spur of the moment, Yuusuke set down his bag, then spun around and hurried over to the nearest vending machine, wallet in one hand and a finger tracing the labels.

 _Pocari Sweat… Amino Value… Oolong Tea… Bepsi._

His lips twitched upward as he clicked _Bepsi._ It came out ice cold, and when Yuusuke touched it to Yasutomo's cheek, it promptly woke him with a ferocious snort.

" _ **W-What the HELL,**_ _**Maki..**_ _shi-ma…"_ his voice dribbled off at the sight of the bottle fogged with condensation.

"For the drink, earlier…" Yuusuke managed an awkward smile. Yasutomo clicked his tongue, but he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, grabbed the offering, then lurched away from the bench, stretching like a grumpy cat.

"You're a mean guy, Makishima," he yawned as they headed back to their room. "Why'd you wake me up like that.. you could have just left me, you know."

Yuusuke scratched his cheek. "I couldn't do that, when you stayed for me, sho.."

Yasutomo choked. _"I told you,_ I was stretching my legs, then sat down and got light-headed, that's all!"

" _Right…"_ Yuusuke turned his head to hide another smile. Yasutomo sucked his teeth and drew a long gulp of his Bepsi. Yuusuke's hand sank into his pocket. "Thanks anyway, sho."

Yasutomo rolled his eyes.

"I think a fly's buzzing in my ear. It's annoying. He should cut it out."

Yuusuke snorted, but fell silent for the rest of the way to the bedroom, where Kinjou and Tadokoro now rested on their futons, blankets bunched over their head and shoulders, complete with obnoxiously loud fake-snoring. Yuusuke whirled around and sputtered into his hands. Yasutomo gurgled.

" _ **You fuckers!"**_ he slammed a foot into Tadokoro's backside, then tackled him in a headlock, screeching as the others roared with laughter and Tadokoro flopped onto his back, crushing his attacker with ease.

Ten minutes later, they lay down, staring at the ceiling.

"I don't wanna ride tomorrow," groaned Tadokoro. Yuusuke hummed.

"We can't give up yet," grunted Kinjou. They sighed.

" _Fuck this camp,"_ hissed Yasutomo. They hummed, louder.

* * *

Spite, Determination, Resignation, and Fear. Come morning, they woke up to sore muscles, chapped lips, and emptiness in their chests. Nobody said a word. Not even when Yasutomo stripped off his shirt, and Yuusuke noticed his bruises for the first time. His jaw dropped, but the others seemed to take those angry blotches in stride, and when Yasutomo stared back at him, eyes dead, Yuusuke lowered his head in embarrassment, his hand clenched around the straw in his pocket.

They made their futons, and by the time they left to eat breakfast, the straw had migrated into the middle back pocket of Yuusuke's jersey, for luck, or something, _anything._

Unable to compete with their seniors' aggressive cheerfulness, they crammed their food down, then fled outside. Tadokoro glanced to the scoreboard and swallowed, hard.

"What happens if someone can't complete the menu..?" he whispered, voice tremulous. Yasutomo gritted his teeth.

"Don't you fucking _dare,"_ he hissed, then mounted his Bianche and sprinted off before anyone might mention his lack of shackles and overabundance of audacity. Little did Yasutomo know that his fellow first-years had long accepted the bruises as his own unique handicap, one they hoped had been entirely self-inflicted, and would disappear soon enough.

Scattered by their erratic pace, they rode alone in vicious circles under a blazing sun. Kinjou continued to experiment at the cost of his stamina, with sporadic success. Yuusuke minded his curves, a spike drawn down his spine. Yasutomo hid behind a blank face, shredding the noise inside his head… and Tadokoro's eyes pleaded the scoreboard in vain, hyperventilating as he gradually cracked like a battered cocoon until its walls crumbled over a dead butterfly.

It took Yasutomo five laps to realize that Tadokoro had been sitting on the sidelines for too long, head hanging. He screeched to a halt.

"What are you resting so long for? Get back on your bike and ride," Yasutomo scolded him as he fished out an energy gel from the cooler. Tadokoro's shoulders hunched.

"Didn't you hear me? _Oi!"_

"I can't, Arakita.." whispered Tadokoro. "When I retired.. they took my sensor…"

Yasutomo's eyes widened.

" _ **Don't be ridiculous!"**_ he punched the cooler. _"Get back in there and_ _ **ride!**_ _ **Ride for yourself, dammit!"**_

Tears streamed down Tadokoro's cheeks. Yasutomo snarled.

" _ **FUCK!"**_

Within seconds, Yasutomo tore down the road again, face convulsing, while Tadokoro remained where he was as per his seniors' orders for the rest of the day.

Kinjou arrived last. The scoreboard clicked.

 _ **Arakita: 485 km**_

 _ **Kinjou: 450 km**_

 _ **Makishima: 340 km**_

 _ **Tadokoro: 235 km**_

Yasutomo spent that evening ignoring everyone in baleful silence, first-years included. Eventually, even Yuusuke gave up on engaging his attention, and yet when he left the bath as its final visitor, he found Yasutomo on the bench again, though Yasutomo sprang up the next moment and strode outside without a word.

On his late return, Yasutomo shoved a Bepsi into Tadokoro's hands, then flopped down and pulled his blanket over his head, too stubborn for apologies.

* * *

The next morning, Yasutomo and Yuusuke checked the scoreboard, staring bleakly at Tadokoro's locked row on the bottom.

"At least _you're_ doing well, sho," sighed Yuusuke. Yasutomo clicked his tongue.

"If they let you ride freely, you'd be up there, too. _…Makishima."_

Yuusuke hummed. Yasutomo mounted his Bianche.

"Keep going anyway. If you somehow make it, pat yourself on the back, because you'll have done something amazing… and if you don't, blame the equipment and move on. That's what I'd do, anyway."

And with that, Yasutomo took off, leaving a wide-eyed Yuusuke behind, who had no idea he would one day repeat Yasutomo's advice to Onoda Sakamichi, or that he would repeat it to Yasutomo some six hours later, when Yasutomo stopped to have an energy gel, slurped it down, then doubled over and flooded the pavement with everything he had ingested since last morning. Tadokoro saw everything, and carried Yasutomo into the nurse's office, but when Yuusuke discovered the abandoned Bianche and a mess unmistakably illness-induced, he wound up there too, to keep watch over a clammy, shivering, bedridden Yasutomo.

"Cheer up, Arakita… _blame the equipment..?"_ risked Yuusuke, though the joke sounded a little weak. Yasutomo barked a laugh regardless, then twitched as a shockwave tore through him and flooded his mouth with acid.

"You're right, Makishima.." he rasped, the corner of his mouth dribbling a sickly yellow against his pallid skin. "It's this piece of shit stomach… the bastard gave out on me.."

Yuusuke's heart sank. He turned his head, then reached inside his back pocket for a tissue, but before he could find one, Yasutomo wiped his mouth with the back of his left hand.

"Makishima.." he breathed, eyes slipping to the ceiling. "Can you get me a Bepsi.. A cold one."

"You need electrolytes, sho…"

"Fuck electrolytes. I'm dying. Be a pal."

Yuusuke shook his head, but a few minutes later, he returned with a bottle of Bepsi, a fresh straw bobbing inside. Yasutomo looked up, noticed the straw, and for a moment, Yuusuke found himself drawn into his smile - a real one with soft edges and cozy corners that cradled you close, instead of jagged ones you could cut yourself on if you weren't careful.

"Thanks, Makishima.. You're a real pal…" sighed Yasutomo as he reached up and ruffled Yuusuke's hair, leaving his scalp tingling. He then took the Bepsi, gradually twisted to his side till his jaw rested on the edge, and pulled the straw between his lips. A few sips, and Yasutomo wheezed. He poised his wrist, then tugged his near-nothing front tufts into miniature bangs with his free hand.

" _Look.._ I'm _Makishima,_ except he's a nice guy, and I'm a gross, ugly, hopeless jerk.." he sipped away, eyelids drooping as steam wafted from Yuusuke's ears.

" _Be quiet and drink your stupid Bepsi, sho!"_ he buried his red face in his hands, while Tadokoro hissed a tortured sigh, feeling suspiciously like he had intruded on something that was most definitely _not_ a _Thing._

* * *

And just like that, Yasutomo's promising ride was over. He eventually drifted away, motionless, quiet, and the longer Yuusuke stared at his languishing teammate, wondering why none of their seniors came looking for them, the less he could care about the training camp menu, or the bittersweet promise of some grand tournament reserved only for the cream of the Sohoku crop. Beside him, Tadokoro huffed in growing bitterness, arms folded over his chest.

"If this had been _Kinjou,_ they'd have come _running,"_ he noted grimly. Yuusuke's mouth twisted.

"Class differences, huh..? We really are the bottom one percent, Tadokorocchi."

"Who you callin' _Tadokorocchi..!"_ flushed Tadokoro. Yuusuke flinched.

"Sorry, sho.. I won't call you that if you hate it.." his hands clenched in his lap.

"W-Well, I've just, never been called that before, that's all…" stammered Tadokoro, one hand scratching furiously at his hair. "…Well, I guess it's better than being called _dumbass_ by the _king of dumbasses_ over here," he nodded to a peacefully resting Yasutomo. Yuusuke flashed a weak smile.

"Yeah, he's terrible, sho…" he tried for a laugh, but only tasted slime and regret in his throat. "You know what though, Tadokorocchi?"

"What?"

"I don't hate either of them, sho. Arakita or Kinjou, I mean. Kinjou's naturally talented, so the seniors fawn over him whether he likes it or not.. and the three of us, _well…"_

" _Don't say it,"_ whispered Tadokoro. "I don't think I could take it right now. I came here thinking I stood a chance, but I ended up dropping out first. I wish they'd just let me go home. Watching everyone ride on without me makes me feel like a big fat burden."

"You're not a burden, Tadokorocchi," sighed Yuusuke. "At least they let you ride alone, sho. I haven't been allowed since I joined, and here they gave me training wheels so I wouldn't waste their precious time, sho."

"It's _unfair,_ Makishima!" wailed Tadokoro. "This camp is hard enough! And they say the Inter-high's even _worse!_ What does that tell you, Makishima? Does that sound like we're _ever_ gonna make it?"

"We might, once all our seniors graduate," Yuusuke gave him a wry smile. "Then we can ride however we want, sho!"

Tadokoro snorted. "Off with the training wheels and on with the Sohoku jerseys, eh?"

"Enough about the training wheels, sho! _I quit,_ Tadokorocchi! I would sooner shave my head than ride another lap, sho!"

"Not so loud, _they might hear you!"_ hushed Tadokoro.

"Yeah, save your pretty watermelon head, Makishima.." murmured Yasutomo, his grin stretching wider as Yuusuke flushed scarlet.

"How long have you been awake, sho?!"

"Long enough to be crowned your _King,_ _dumbasses,"_ came the smug reply. "Now get His Majesty another Bepsi.. A cold one."

" _Forget it,_ sho! You're getting electrolytes and _you'll like it!"_

" _Stop acting like a_ _ **gross couple**_ _already!"_ snapped Tadokoro.

Yuusuke growled in exasperation and fled the office, while Yasutomo burst into laughter, then keeled over whimpering as his stomach clenched like a fist.


	5. V

"I still can't believe you kept that straw.." purred Yasutomo. Yuusuke laughed.

"Wanna hear something worse, sho?" he squeezed Yasutomo's hands. "I kept the first one, too. The tiny one. I washed them and I put them in a box, sho."

" _Oh my god…"_ Yasutomo squeezed back, chortling in raw abandon as Yuusuke's grin stretched obscenely wide.

" _Gross couple.."_ muttered Tadokoro. Aoyagi and Teshima exchanged knowing glances.

"Makishima-san's so cool..!" sighed Onoda, obviously impressed. Sugimoto nodded along.

" _Hellooo_ , are we really ignoring that bit where Arakita-san puked his guts out?" piped up Naruko.

" _ **Yes,"**_ Yasutomo bared his teeth, _"we are."_

* * *

"No, _seriously,_ what was that?!"

"Stomach bug? The heat? That energy gel? _I don't know!"_ shrugged Yasutomo. "I swallowed that stuff and it hit me that it was the most disgusting thing I'd ever put in my mouth, and the rest just, naturally followed from there! Is this even important?!"

"Well, it kinda cost you the training camp, didn't it?"

"So _that's_ the reason Arakita-san doesn't remember half of your training camp! Because he spent the second half in bed..!" gasped Sugimoto. Yasutomo gave him finger guns.

"Well, not quite," smiled Yuusuke. "He did get out one more time, sho."

* * *

"Arakita-san got out one more time..?" mumbled Onoda, eyes large.

" _Ka-ka-ka!_ Of course he did, he had to take a dump _sometime,_ didn't he?"

"What's with you and bowel movements, sho?!" snapped Yuusuke. "And hadn't you been paying attention? I already told part of that story once, sho!"

"Already told us once..?" mumbled Sugimoto.

"Remember when I told you how he had saved Kinjou from injuring himself?" smirked Yuusuke. Kinjou turned his head. "Yasutomo did that on the fourth day, while he was still sick."

"Ahh, I remember that story from last year," chimed in Teshima as Aoyagi nodded, smiling.

* * *

"Oh? Have Teshima-san and Aoyagi-san already heard this story?"

Teshima hummed, amused.

"Yes, but not the full thing, apparently. Looking back, we probably should have asked everyone about their previous training camps, but we were, ah, a little shy back then."

"You mean _terrified_ of the _Big Bad_ second-years," teased Tadokoro. Aoyagi looked away, guilty as charged. Teshima patted his shoulder.

"Aww, come on, we weren't _that_ scary!" groused Yasutomo. Aoyagi stared at him, expression unreadable. Yasutomo choked. _"Aoyagi-chan?!_ Don't look at me like that!"

"Anyway, it's a great story. I'd love to hear it again," grinned Teshima. Kinjou groaned.


	6. VI

Tempted though Yuusuke was to ignore Yasutomo and Tadokoro for a while, he soon reappeared with a Pocari Sweat, to find Yasutomo had since curled up in fetal position on the bed, head down and arms tucked to his abdomen.

" _His Majesty_ laughed too hard and now he's dying," explained Tadokoro, tone deadpan.

" _Shuddup.."_ wheezed Yasutomo. Yuusuke sighed, but stepped closer and held out the bottle all the same.

"I got you a sports drink, sho. Can you drink it on your own or do you need help, sho?"

"Give it here.." Yasutomo reached out a trembling hand. Yuusuke's brow furrowed, but he opened the Pocari Sweat, equipped it with the straw from the empty Bepsi bottle, then set it down by Yasutomo's head, who curled his fingers around the base.

"I'll drink it in a minute.." he whispered. "Promise.."

Yuusuke hummed.

"We should go and tell the seniors what happened," he glanced to Tadokoro, who caught his meaning and rose from his seat. "We'll be back soon, sho."

"Aight.."

Tadokoro walked out and Yuusuke followed, peering over his shoulder one last time to see Yasutomo release the bottle so he could wrap both arms around his stomach, breath labored.

They arrived just in time to catch Shiraiwa, who had stopped for an interval and a drink.

"Ah, _there you are,_ Tadokoro," he chided as soon as they entered the open tent. _"Where have you been?_ Someone left an awful mess in here, it stinks like a sewer!"

"Uh, Shiraiwa-san.." Tadokoro cleared his throat. "Arakita had an energy gel and threw up, so we took him to the nurse's office. He's looking bad."

Shiraiwa paused. His features twitched, then smoothed out just as fast.

"I knew he wouldn't last," he shook his head without an ounce of surprise. "That jackass… he doesn't know how to take care of himself at all, does he. You've seen those bruises..! Well, _Tadokoro_ did, since _Makishima_ likes to do things at his _own_ pace," he added, ignoring the way Yuusuke colored. "I'm sorry for him, but guys like Arakita are all talk and nothing else."

With that, Shiraiwa turned around and mounted his road racer.

"Tadokoro, clean up that mess. Makishima, you have more laps to do."

Shiraiwa then took off, missing the way Yuusuke clenched his fists and stepped forward, much too late to confront him.

"Makishima..?" mumbled Tadoroko. Yuusuke's expression grew savage.

"How could Shiraiwa-san _say that?"_ he pleaded, eyes wide. "Arakita was doing so _well!_ Did you know he lives in the dorm, Tadokorocchi? He works himself to death every day and then goes back to a tiny dorm room, and he's still stronger than us! That's amazing! _Don't they get how amazing he is?!"_

Tadokoro stared at him bewildered. Yuusuke flushed and averted his eyes.

"I'll.. go back and stay with Arakita. Do you, wanna come..?"

Tadokoro scratched at the back of his head.

"I'll.. clean up first, and then I'll join you," he promised. Yuusuke hummed, his smile grateful.

* * *

They couldn't have been gone for more than ten minutes, but by the time Yuusuke returned, the office floor gleamed as if freshly mopped, and Yasutomo lay on his back, eyes closed and an IV hooked to his arm. His nose crinkled as Yuusuke approached.

"Makishima.. sorry," he flashed a weak smile. "I drank it, but I couldn't keep it down…"

Yuusuke's face scrunched up.

"Don't be _sorry!_ Just rest and _get better, sho,"_ he breathed as he sank down on a nearby chair, head hanging. Yasutomo hummed.

Eventually, a knock on the door announced Tadokoro, who slipped in with a plastic bag.

"I got us some drinks, some snacks, and a pack of playing cards courtesy of Kinjou… _and,_ I parked your road racer behind the tent so nobody would notice you're gone," he winked at Yuusuke.

"You're the _best,_ Tadokorocchi," Yuusuke grinned at him. Tadokoro chuckled. "So, what do we play, sho?"

"I have a game for ya.." mumbled Yasutomo, voice barely there. "It's called _dying.._ and I think I'm gonna win.."

"How are you still alive?" muttered Tadokoro. Yasutomo grinned.

"It's because.. I actually suck at dying…"

Yuusuke snorted into his palm. Tadokoro's shoulders quaked.

"I gotta admit, you're one tough guy, Arakita," he laughed as he lifted an arm to give Yasutomo's shoulder a friendly tap, then remembered the bruises at the last moment and drew his hand back. Yuusuke sighed in relief. Yasutomo gave a thumbs-up.

"You guys have fun now. I'm gonna pass out.."

"Thanks."

"Rest well, sho."

Tadokoro and Yuusuke soon placed the nightstand between them, and for the rest of the afternoon, they tried half a dozen different card games with varying success, sometimes stopping for a drink or snack, and at the end, to award Yasutomo with an ice-cold Bepsi for not dying.

Beyond occasional trips to the bathroom and the vending machine, they only left Yasutomo's side for dinner, at which point Yuusuke discovered that his GIAS had been transferred to the bicycle rack along with Yasutomo's Bianche, their sensors gone.

 _ **Kinjou: 720 km**_

 _ **Arakita: 645 km**_

 _ **Makishima: 450 km**_

That evening, all their seniors could talk of was Kinjou's talent, integrity, perseverance, and commitment to the road racing club's goals, while pointedly ignoring Yuusuke and Tadokoro. Judging by Kinjou's troubled smiles, however, he wished his seniors would have used their mouths exclusively for consumption, and later confirmed the first-years' suspicion when he asked to bathe with them instead. Yuusuke excused himself, saying he would go later, but Tadokoro accepted. Kinjou seemed relieved.

With Tadokoro's assistance, Yasutomo soon joined them in the bath, with just enough presence of mind to wash himself in silence… or so it seemed, until Kinjou sat down on the stool next to him and Yasutomo sniffed the air, nose twitching.

"You're done too, huh, Kinjou.."

"Arakita-kun..?" mumbled Kinjou, shoulders tense. Yasutomo sighed.

"Your leg's gonna give out soon.. Don't ride anymore."

"Kinjou…" whispered Tadokoro. _"Are you—?"_

Kinjou paled and turned his head away, features hardening.

* * *

At that moment, cowering on a plastic bathing stool short enough to plant his feet on the ground, Kinjou's agitated mind pulled up the rich tapestry of life lessons this training camp had weaved for him so far, tugging at two intertwined threads. One, that sometimes, too much faith placed in you could be as lethal as too little of it; and the other, that the very same people investing that faith in such varying degrees would thus produce starkly different foundations for their subjects: a pool of quicksand for Tadokoro to struggle and sink in, and a steep pedestal for Kinjou, where the only way off was to plummet in a spectacular crash.

As for Yuusuke and Yasutomo, Kinjou soon drew another parallel. While one was being punished with corrections for his irregular form, the other was being corrected through punishments for his irregular spirit, and yet this treatment produced no "desirable" results in either. And how could it, when neither had a talent for conformity, and now harbored a deep-seated resentment towards those in charge? Indeed, the more Kinjou dwelled on the four of them, the more he was forced to wonder if their seniors were guilty of misjudgment, rather than miscalculation, now that their decisions had escalated into an avalanche of failures and toppled the first-years like dominoes.

Kinjou had seen their road racers, prematurely stripped of their sensors the way one might clip the wings of birds to prevent their flight. He caught Tadokoro's puffy eyes, Yuusuke's stubborn silence, and Yasutomo's shallow, acrid breath. Of the four riders, only Kinjou remained standing now, and in spirit, he gathered the selfish hopes he had once hung from Yasutomo's neck like a garland of chains, and wrapped them around his own throat. He would not give up. For his friends' sakes, Kinjou would do whatever it took to ace the training camp menu and carry their wishes to the stage of the Inter-high - to forge a new, better hope of their own.

Except, due to his unsolicited handicap, Kinjou was fast approaching his limit. Each day, he rode further and longer than the last to make up for his lackluster start, and each night, he felt it in his joints like the crawl of borers inside an infested tree, crushing the branches from within.

And yet he was _so close now..! Only two hundred and eighty kilometers left!_

 _Don't ride anymore._

 _ **But—!**_

 _Kinjou… bad things come to those who ignore their limits,_ said the former best new pitcher of Kanagawa, and unable to dismiss Yasutomo's experiences or that pale centipede of a scar, Kinjou clenched his jaws and washed his aching knee in silence.

Nobody spoke afterwards. Some wouldn't, and after a while, Yasutomo just couldn't.

Yuusuke arrived to the bath just as the three of them had left it, Yasutomo clinging to Tadokoro for support. Yuusuke's shoulders hunched, but he said goodnight to them, then entered the locker room without another glance, scolding himself for being unreasonable.

* * *

When Yuusuke left the bath at last, undisturbed once more, he skidded to a halt at the sight of Tadokoro and Yasutomo on the bench, the latter passed out and drooling over Tadokoro's shoulder. Yuusuke's eyes widened. Tadokoro huffed.

"Can you believe this guy?" he grumbled, arms folded. "Halfway down the hall, he demanded I bring him back here so he could sit around until ten. _What does that even mean?"_

Yuusuke checked his phone. A scant half an hour had passed since they met at the entrance - his usual bathing time…

"I don't know. He's an idiot, sho," muttered Yuusuke, cheeks dangerously warm. "Let's just take him back before he thinks of something dumber and hurts himself, sho."

"King of dumbasses indeed," groused Tadokoro as he pulled Yasutomo over his shoulders, jostling him half-conscious in the process.

" _Is he done yet.."_ slurred Yasutomo. Tadokoro quirked his brow. Yuusuke flushed crimson.

"Yeah.. we're all done, sho…" he stammered, a hand pressed to his hot face.

"All done _for,_ you mean," added Tadokoro, who broke into a power shuffle down the hall, refusing to listen to any more gross coupley gibberish that night.

After due consideration, they took Yasutomo to the nurse's office, where he was gently laid to rest, and his friends assured he would be in good hands. Before they left, Yuusuke brought him a Pocari Sweat and a straw to leave on his nightstand, "because he's an idiot and he might try to get up for a drink and hurt himself, sho." Tadokoro shook his head at him, unsure which was greater, his pity or amusement, but one glare from Yuusuke, and he decided better of saying so.

They slipped into their room and found Kinjou lying on his back, hands wringing the blanket and his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Cheer up, Kinjou..!" Tadokoro tried for a reassuring smile as he and Yuusuke settled down. "Sitting out isn't so bad once you've got company..!"

"What are you talking about?" replied Kinjou, a little too fast and a little too sharp. "I'm still riding tomorrow."

"But, Arakita said your leg was—"

"Arakita-kun was delirious. There's nothing wrong with my leg."

Tadokoro and Yuusuke exchanged glances. Tadokoro shrugged, unsure. Yuusuke furrowed his brow.

"Don't push yourself too hard, sho.."

"You mean like _you?"_ retorted Kinjou, regretting his words instantly as Yuusuke's features darkened. _"I'm sorry…_ I don't know what came over me. Forgive me, Makishima-kun.."

Yuusuke frowned at him.

"Arakita might be delirious, but you're really out of it yourself, sho," he scolded, though he seemed to soften when Kinjou's face scrunched up.

"It's this training camp, Makishima. _It's getting to us,"_ whispered Tadokoro, his delivery worthy of a campsite horror story. Yuusuke clicked his tongue.

"All we're missing now is a pig's head on a stick, sho."

"What is that, Ito Junji?"

"William Golding."

"..Close enough!"

Yuusuke laughed. Even Kinjou laughed a little… and come dawn, he snuck outside like a thief, to finish what he had started.

* * *

At length, Yasutomo stirred, nose quivering as it mapped his surroundings behind closed eyelids. The sterile ambience of the nurse's office, his own stale sweat.. And to his right, smelling _so nice… Makishima..?_

"Arakita..? Are you awake, sho?"

 _Man, I'm good._

"Morning.." Yasutomo opened his eyes, managing a faint smile to try and match Yuusuke's, whose hands curled around a misty bottle of Bepsi. Yasutomo perked up.

"That for me?" he pointed. Yuusuke's cheeks tinged.

"I figured you might like one, sho," he handed it over, watching with relief as Yasutomo lifted away from his pillow, propped his back against the backrest, and took a long draught, no straw required.

He briefly lowered the bottle to ask, "Where are the others?"

"Outside," grinned Yuusuke. "It seems you were wrong, and Kinjou's leg is fine after all, sho! He's been riding since—"

He froze as Yasutomo choked on his drink and sprayed the sheets. _"—dawn…"_

" _ **FUCK! Hold this!"**_ Yasutomo shoved his half-empty bottle into Yuusuke's hands and sprang out of bed, one hand pressed against his stomach.

"A-Arakita! _Wait up!_ Where are you going?!" Yuusuke hurried after him.

" _Number one rule,_ Makishima," growled Yasutomo, picking up the pace, _**"your scent NEVER LIES! Fuck!"**_

They were in luck. Shortly after they reached the scoreboard, Kinjou appeared on his road racer, to skid to a halt in front of Yasutomo.

" _You're_ _ **ruining**_ _your knee!"_ he snapped. "I can see you _shaking, dumbass!"_

Kinjou heaved, face pale. Yasutomo sighed.

"Kinjou… it's over."

" _But I can still make it!_ I will never give up—"

" _ **Kinjou!"**_

His tone struck Kinjou silent. When he had to, Yasutomo's tongue could cut through steel.

"There's a difference between calling it quits for your own good, and having to stop because you wrecked yourself beyond repair. You're heading towards the latter. _I_ should know."

Kinjou swallowed, hard. Yasutomo arched his head.

"You'll ace this training camp next year. Until then, take better care of yourself, and save that attitude for _**real**_ _races, moron!"_

As Kinjou broke down in tears, Yasutomo slumped in relief, then seized up and doubled over, splattering the ground with Bepsi.

They wound up at the nurse's office together. Kinjou received bandages, Yasutomo an IV.

 _ **Kinjou: 775 km**_

Six hours later, the first-years crawled into the back of the rental midibus, away from their smug, contented seniors. Instead of feigning sleep as usual, Tadokoro ended up comforting a subdued, embarrassed Kinjou huddling in the right corner. Yuusuke sat on the opposite end, staring into space… and across their laps sprawled a catatonic, barely breathing Yasutomo, his feet propped on Kinjou's thighs and his head cradled in Yuusuke's lap, who wondered what would become of him once he was back at the dorm, with no one to look after him.

Injury, Despair, Atrophy, and Defiance. In the end, the four riders realized that they didn't get any closer to the Inter-high. They didn't get much closer to their own goals, either.

Instead, they got closer to each other.


	7. VII

Onoda and Naruko wiped their eyes, sniffling. Kinjou cleared his throat.

"Now that you know our tragic history," he fixed his gaze on the first-years, "have you learned anything from our experiences?"

"Never take your stomach for granted!" wailed Naruko, eyes larger than saucers.

"Having friends by your side is comforting, even when they cannot help!" chirped Onoda.

"This training camp was designed specifically to torture first-years," said Sugimoto. Yasutomo snorted.

"Well, you're not wrong."

"Um, may I ask something?" Onoda raised his hand. Yuusuke hummed encouragingly. Onoda rubbed his nose, smiling. "What did _you_ learn from that training camp?"

* * *

"I learned.. that I had to get stronger," Kinjou fixed his glasses. Yasutomo rolled his eyes.

"I learned that energy gels are dangerous," he propped his chin on Yuusuke's shoulder. Yuusuke laughed.

"I learned that Yasutomo was good, deep down, and training wheels are the worst, sho."

Yasutomo grinned. Tadokoro sighed.

"I learned that sometimes, I'm my own worst enemy, so I won't give up so easily ever again."

Flustered by their sympathetic looks, he proceeded to add,

" _A-And!_ Because Arakita got sick, we also learned he was the Youkai."

" _The Youkai..?"_ echoed the first-years. Yasutomo shot Tadokoro a glare.

* * *

" _We're almost there, Tadokorocchi…"_

 _Tadokoro hummed, half-dead Yasutomo crushing his shoulders._

" _I guess I should let someone know—"_

" **The Youkai's back!"**

 _Yuusuke and Tadokoro froze as a group of bewildered students poured out of the dorm._

" _Youkai, what happened to you?!" they cried._

" _My mortal form is dying.." slurred Yasutomo. The group gasped in horror._

 _In the blink of an eye, they pried Yasutomo off Tadokoro's shoulders and hauled him inside the building, shouting,_

" _Make way!" "The Youkai's sick!" "Get Seiko-chan! We need medicine, stat!"_

 _Outside, Yuusuke and Tadokoro exchanged stunned glances._

Much like the first-years did right now, actually.

* * *

" _Are you kidding me?!"_ shrieked Naruko. "I thought the Youkai was a myth!"

"So when our classmates said the Youkai could smell your soul, they literally meant Arakita-san's keen sense of smell..?" Sugimoto slapped his hands on his cheeks. "I cannot believe I've never made that connection! This is a disgrace!"

" _Stop talking about the Youkai already!"_ snapped Yasutomo, shooting murderous glances at Tadokoro. "So I accidentally started a cult, _big deal!"_

" _A cult?!"_ stammered Onoda. Yasutomo rubbed his temple with a tortured sigh.

"Look, I'll explain some other time. Now go to bed, you brats! It's late!"

" _Aww, Arakita-saaan..!"_


End file.
